Consequences of a Huntress
by Sailor Wolf4
Summary: Its one thing in life when a person's line of work takes them into odd situations. For an elven huntress who went by the name of Brianna Davis, the oddness factor reached new heights when she, quite literally, fell into Arda. For Aragorn, he just wished that she hadn't landed on top of him. Aragorn/OC. Somewhat AU. More prominent in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**Consequences of a Huntress**

**Chapter 1**

**Somewhere Far Beyond**

_*Please note that I absolutely love Arwen/Aragorn, but really wanted to try something new. I don't own LOTR, but I do, however, own The Elven Hunters, Brianna Davis, and all that comes with their ilk.*_

* * *

She should have seen this coming. She never did, of course. That would mean she had the semi-convenience of the gift of foresight. Naturally, she would be stuck in a situation such as this.

To say that Brianna Davis, as she constantly referred herself to everyone she met, was in a pretty pickle would be a gross understatement. Try being straddled, on the ground, by an incredibly raw smelling man (take a bath) at sword point? In fact, to add icing to the cake, try all of the above right after using said man to break one's fall? Unintentionally, Brianna would most certainly like to add in a very pointed manner, but the after effects still stand.

'_Warlocks,'_ she thought, _'Not wizards or witches, not elves, and most certainly not anyone I ever desire seeing again, but I blame all of warlock-kind for getting me into this mess!'_

Not that she particularly understood how that bit happened, there was too much crossfire from both sides, she just happened to be caught in the middle of whatever said warlocks were doing before her hunter's group intervened and, well, this was the result. Brianna glanced down at where she knew the sword point was hovering just above her left artery suddenly feeling very nervous. This inability to get out of her current situation did not sit well with her general disposition. It also didn't help that she couldn't exactly say anything with this psychopath's sword hovering so close to her neck.

"Who are you?" he finally asked.

Brianna rolled her eyes while letting out a slightly frustrated sigh. She glanced at his sword than back up at him with a very pointed '_You expect me to talk with your sword so close to my neck'_ look. He finally seemed to get the message when the tip lifted from her skin ever so slightly and allowed her to finally voice some coherent sentences.

"Well, I'm obviously not from around here, or didn't you notice my lack of appropriate attire and the fact that it's quite different than yours?" she asked indignantly.

The look he sent her told her that he still wanted his original question answered. Brianna wracked her brain for an acceptable explanation. How was she supposed to explain this? '_Oh hey, sorry to have fallen on top of you, but I come from a totally and completely different world from yours and I was caught in some magical portal spell thingy that blasted me here in the middle of a battle! Kindly tell me where I am, if you please? If I so much as say that I'll get committed!'_

"It's kind of complicated and you wouldn't believe me if I told you," she stated.

This man, this dark haired human who seemed to move faster than she originally gave humans credit for, tilted his head slightly to the side and leaned forward slightly while bringing the edge of his sword closer to her skin across her entire neck. Brianna felt her mouth run dry. This man was prepared to kill her! She was used to complete strangers attempting to, certainly, but the bronze haired elf was used to being able to fight back.

"Is it now? Tell me, why have you happened on my group? What is your purpose here?" he asked dangerously.

He was deaf, or lacked basic comprehension skills, she decided. Really, the trees here were too thin for her to climb. What made him think that she was waiting for his little group to pass under her?

"And I'm telling you that I'm not from here and don't even know how I got here in the first place!" she snapped.

That bit was a lie. She knew what caused her to end up in this particular world, but what she did not know was how it happened nor the spell. Well, she knew what type of spell it was, she just didn't know which one. It was probably some sort of sorcery, if she knew anything about warlocks.

"Then what land do you hail from? Is it Mordor? Are you one of the fallen? Is your master Sauron?" he hissed.

Brianna's mouth dropped open? One of the fallen? Did he think she was a Knight Elf or something like their ilk?

"Okay, one, I hail from Alaska as far as I know! Where I come from, I'm a Huntress for Ecthairon. That's my world's force against evil, just so you know! I am not one of the fallen, as you put them, I have never heard of Mordor, and I most certainly have never known about this Sauron person you keep accusing me of knowing! Now put away your sword and get off me! You're heavy!" she snapped.

The man gave her a suspicious look and seemed to hesitate. Not that she could blame them, she really couldn't if they were being hunted, but she was getting really tired of laying on the ground with this heavy human sitting on her!

"Strider!" came a voice to her right.

Brianna glanced over to find a small person, literally a little man about the size of a dwarf if not smaller, standing near them. He looked young, that didn't mean anything of course, with his mop of messy black hair and clear blue eyes. She glanced back up at the person she now knew as Strider and took in his appearance better. Whereas the little man looked like he took slightly better care of himself, Strider's shoulder length black hair hung from his scalp in dirty ribbons. His face was sprinkled with prickly stubs of a beard he half-hazardly shaved. While his blue eyes were clean and bright, his face, clothes, and pretty much everything else, looked like he had been roughing it for several months. That was probably the reason for his body odor.

"I think she might be telling the truth," continued the little man.

And really, why would she lie outright with a sword pressed dangerously close to her neck?

"You cannot know that for certain, Frodo."

"She told us where she is from and used strange names to describe it. I do not believe she is," insisted the one called Frodo.

She closed her eyes, feeling some semblance of relief. She had a lawyer, it seemed.

"We should give her a chance, at least. You can lop of her head later if you don't like her explanation," came a newer voice.

This new person wasn't in her line of vision. It didn't matter really. This Strider was the person she had to convince most of all.

"She is armed, Sam," Strider replied.

"Then disarm me," Brianna supplied pointedly.

He didn't trust her. She didn't blame him. Brianna's body was littered with weapons and she sincerely doubted that he'd find all of them. To gain their trust, she'd have to completely make herself seemingly vulnerable. She had her magic. Wherever there were elements, she had magic, but letting them know that at this point in time would be a very bad idea.

"She won't run, Strider, not if she has a reason to," insisted Frodo.

Brianna wisely remained silent and hoped that this overly cautious man listened to his friend. After some mental deliberation on his part, Strider (an odd name in her opinion) finally heaved himself off of her. She sat up after uttering a small "thank you" directed mostly towards the little man known as Frodo.

"Do not disarm yourself," commanded Strider gruffly, "should you be a friend and we are attacked, I do not wish you to be completely defenseless."

Brianna nodded while keeping in mind that he probably would lop off her head the moment she rubbed his instincts the wrong way. In all honesty, he reminded her of a few seasoned elven hunters.

"Alright," she began, "What do you want to know?"

"You are an elf?" he asked immediately.

She gave him a look, "Are the ears not a dead giveaway or is it the fact that I'm too short?"

Strider raised an eyebrow and she returned his look with one of her own.

"I'm an elf, I'm just not an elf from here as far as I know. I've only ever known my father. My mother I have never met," she said.

He nodded and then asked, "Huntress?"

"Where I come from, the elven hunters is a group began by my great aunt, Artemis ven Aldura, to fight against the forces of evil. Every elf has learned their fighting skills from her academy, that's a sort of school, but only a few take on the mantel of hunter or huntress. We keep people safe and humans from finding out about us. Where we are, them knowing we're more than myths and legends will cause more harm than good," she explained.

"And what is this Alaska?"

Brianna wondered what his reaction would be if she explained what the United States were. She decided to find out.

"Alaska is a human realm where the Academy for Elven Hunters is. Alaska is a state that is part of a bigger country known as the United States of America. They are a Republic with elected officials and no nobility… or so they say," she explained.

Strider remained silent, but the four little men that traveled with him had no trouble with picking up the conversation.

"You said something about another world? You are not from here?" asked Frodo.

Brianna nodded, "I'm from Earth."

"Your elves are not like ours?" asked the voice she knew to be Sam.

She looked past Frodo to where the voice came from and finally placed a face to it. Sam had a mop of curly red hair styled closely to Frodo's. Like the other small one, he wore traveling close and looked a little worse for wear.

"Not particularly. We have our current clans, Aldura, Rhune, and Ylearan, but we do have the Eldar of our race. They're few, but they still exist and mostly keep to themselves. My people have a ruling family that governs us all," she explained.

Frodo sat next to her and inquired, "You know nothing of where you are or how you came to be here?"

Brianna shook her head, "I know I came here through some sort of portal spell that warlocks, humans who dabbled too closely with sorcery, conjured, but I'm not sure about anything else."

"Which means, if any of this is true, you know nothing of what hunts us nor the precise value of this company?" asked Strider.

She nodded and leaned back on the palm of her hands. Whether the human was warming up to her or not remained to be seen. She had to admit, the man had a superb poker face something she never managed to master.

Her eyes scanned the small brush of wimpy, gnarled, trees and loose leaves scattered on the ground. Spurts of browning grass scattered sporadically around the small clearing and the sun bore down on them with a darker gleam than she was used to. When she left earth, it was summer and she had currently been in Oklahoma. Here, apparently, fall was upon them and winter approached.

She knew that she had been thrust into another world, but the reality of the situation hadn't fully dawned on her until this moment. Brianna swallowed down a lump that suddenly lodged itself in her throat and willed herself to not break down.

"I… I don't know anything about this place at all," she replied in a small voice.

Brianna's teal eyes caught the blue ones of Strider's. Her sudden distress seemed to register with him as his rugged face softened slightly. Eyes, it seemed, really could tell a person everything. Brianna knew this because looking into his told her more about his company's situation than he probably wanted her to know. Whatever it was that hunted them caused him to fear.

She sighed. It didn't matter the situation, the place, nor the people; she was a hunter first and foremost. If something dark and evil was after him, it was her job, her duty, to help. She could feel sorry for herself later when they reached safety. Right now, they were probably stuck with each other.

"If you let me come with you, I will help in any way I can. If you're heading for safety, I want to go there as well," she said.

Strider inclined his head, "You do not know our purpose, yet you offer us aid. Why is that?"

Brianna smiled and replied, "I'm a huntress. My job is to protect this innocent and destroy evil. Besides, I have no idea where anything is and I need some sort of guide."

Strider didn't answer. In fact, he seemed rather against the proposition despite the fact that she was telling the truth. Brianna wondered about this. What was so bad that he didn't want to get an outworlder involved?

"Strider, if she's really from another world, she'd be in trouble if the Nazgul found her," prompted Frodo.

"I am for it," remarked another one of the little men whose name she didn't know.

"Same here," said the fourth.

Sam, the red headed little man seemed to think about it for a minute before nodding and giving his piece, "Personally, I still don't trust her, but I believe that she's not from here. She is too different even for what I'd imagine an elf would be. I say we bring her along."

The human man let out a tired sigh and muttered under his breath, "Save me from the trusting nature of Hobbits," before inclining his head to give his consent, "she may come, but she will stay by me at all times."

"Who are you?" asked Frodo.

'_Hmm, he might have a point about them being too trusting if they only just now thought to ask my name,'_ Brianna thought.

She answered, "My human alias is Brianna Davis. Call me Brianna for now. It'll make things easier. And before your body guard breaths down my neck about it, I don't want my elven name to be revealed. There's power in a name and I don't make it my business to tell it to everyone."

The human let out a slight chuckle at that, "So there is. You may keep your name a secret for the time being, but once we reach our destination, it may be best to give it to us. Now, let us not tarry any longer. We must go."

He stood and the others with him. Brianna followed closely after suddenly feeling curious.

"So, what exactly is a Nazgul and is that what's after you?" she asked.

Strider glanced at her, "They were once human poisoned by Sauron and transformed into wraths. No humanity remains in them."

"One of those, huh? Can't say I've heard of this particular type of wraith before, but I am familiar with the breed," she remarked while stepping beside him.

"They are after the One Ring, a talisman of great power forged by Sauron himself. Frodo currently has it in his possession," he said.

Brianna nodded before shooting him a confusion look, "Hold on, you're running for your lives because of a bloody ring?"

* * *

There was no fire that night to illuminate the ground around them. Clouds hung low in the sky promising torrents of rain in the near future. Strider bent the limbs of the low bearing trees around their small camp and Brianna, very quietly, made the braches grow thick enough to hopefully filter out most of the probable downpour. The nights in Arda, as she found out the place was called, dipped to near freezing digits. The potential of waking to frost was expected and all of them found ways to keep themselves warm for the night.

She didn't need as much protection from the cold as the other's did, but she also didn't have much of an option of how and where she would sleep. She didn't have a cloak. Her body was clothed in her black battle suit and her weapons would most certainly not give her head much comfort from the cold ground. Steeling herself for a night of fitful slumber, Brianna unbuckled her belt and curled up on the ground.

Using one of her arms to better support her head the young elf maiden gazed at the leaf strewn forest floor and took the time to digest the day's events.

First, she battled warlocks conducting a very illegal ritual that she later found out opened a portal to another world. Second, she fell into said world and right on top of the Ranger, Strider, and literally had to talk her way out of getting her throat slashed. Third, she signed on to help protect four Hobbits (as she found out they were called) one of which carried a powerfully dark evil corrupting ring to an elven city by the name of Rivendell all the while avoiding nine wraiths (or Nazgul as they were otherwise known) who were out to capture the ring and kill all of them.

She shifted uncomfortably on the ground and closed her eyes in an attempted to gain some rest. Whether it would work or not remained to be seen. Maybe she could slip into a doze for the rest of the night?

A hand gently cupped her shoulder and she opened her eyes to find Strider hovering above her with her cloak in hand.

"Sleep on this, it will make the night easier," he whispered.

She blinked up at him before registering what he was doing.

"Are you sure? It's your cloak."

"Quite. You will need rest for the journey tomorrow," came his reply.

Deciding that it was best not to argue with the person who still mistrusted her enough to make her life living hell if he so chose, Brianna accepted the offered cloak with a soft "thank you". His bit of chivalry done for the night, Strider returned to where he was sitting and continued his watch of the camp and for wraiths.

Brianna bunched up the cloak and stuffed it under her head. The material was soft, yet firm, and resembled the elven cloaks issued to the hunters whenever they conducted their scouting patrols. Slightly more comfortable than she originally was, Brianna fell into a fitful sleep until morning.

* * *

Strider, as he preferred his company to know him as, frowned at the small black heap on the other side of the makeshift campsite. Naturally he had a lot of questions concerning her left unanswered. He hoped that would change; especially once they reached Rivendell. He wasn't comfortable with Frodo's immediate trust of the elleth. Even if she wasn't an agent of Sauron, she could easily be something more sinister. Her clothes were inked in black. Everything about her suggested she was used to hiding things. Her reluctance to give her name to them made him worry. He might have cause to keep his a secret, but she didn't as far as he knew.

Frodo was right about one thing, though. If she proved to be a friend, then her life would be in danger should Sauron's forces ever find her.

He glanced up at the tree branches he tied together earlier that evening and frowned. There was something odd about the branches and he couldn't quite put a finger on the problem. They were thick branches, thicker than… The branches were thicker than they originally were!

This realization crossed his mind the moment the soft patter of promised rain finally descended from the night's sky. A few droplets leaked through the roof into the camp, but remained far away from his sleeping companions. His eyes fell on the strange elleth's sleeping form and his lips curved into a frown. This Brianna Davis was a riddle and he wasn't entirely sure if he liked that.

* * *

"Marshes?" Brianna asked midday when the group stopped at the edge of the forest.

Beside her the Hobbits, Merry and Pippin as they were known, grimaced identically with sympathy. Frodo and Sam, while stoic in their own way, also did not seem eager about their prospective trek. Strider raised an eyebrow.

"The Midgewater Marshes to be exact," he said shortly.

Brianna frowned. Marshes were not her favorite terrain. Whereas she moved with grace and poise on perfectly flat lands, rocky wildernesses, and thick rooted forests marshes were among the few grounds her brilliant coordination failed her. It didn't help that the boots she wore were most certainly not marshland material. In fact, they were mostly good for stealth, battles, and the occasional daily travel on foot. This exceeded their usefulness and she knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that by the time they were out of the marshes she could kiss her boots goodbye. It was a pity. She liked these particular boots.

"Lovely. Rangers first," she said dryly.

She'd rather not have him around where he could actually see her stumble and fall into the stinking water.

* * *

The first day did not go well for anyone. Strider, who was the one with the most coordination, ended up helping Brianna and the Hobbits out of sticky situations. Pippin even managed to find a surprise swamp much to both Brianna and Strider's chagrin as they were the ones who had to get him out. The second day wasn't any better. The marshes' stench made it difficult for Brianna to concentrate which, unfortunately for her, caused her to stumble more often. At one point, when she took a tumble into a boggy pool, Strider put his figurative foot down and kept one arm around her shoulders and one of her hands in his. This on top of both of them trying to help the Hobbits over various unstable grounds added to a slow day.

The mosquitos were absolutely horrible and Brianna had burst out in laughter when the others in the company asked her about the name. She quickly explained to them about the classification of species in her world and that mosquito was the name the pesky blood-sucking flies eating their skin and causing the horrible welts. She also explained a few other bugs she recognized, gnats, cicadas and dirty looking minnows.

When they finally stumbled out of the marshes on the fifth day and into a hilly country side. To say that the company was relieved was an understatement. From their vantage point, though Brianna admittingly had the better sight, their eyes rested on one distant hill and the ruins peeking its top.

"Where are we?" asked Frodo though his question was more directed at the runes than the hill country.

"The Weather Hills. That is Weathertop, The Old Road. We may reach it tomorrow at noon if we head straight towards it. I supposed we had better do so," explained Strider with a slight frown on his face.

"Why suppose exactly?" Brianna asked while inspecting her nearly ruined boots.

"Simply that when we do get there I am uncertain as to what we may find. It is close to the road," he informed her.

Brianna winced and replied, "I hate roads. They're too open for my taste."

"But surely we were hoping to find Gandalf there?" asked Frodo from his place beside Brianna.

While Brianna wondered about who this mentioned Gandalf was, Strider explained to them the dangers of waiting for him in the edge of this wilderness. She privately agreed with him from the bits of the conversation she paid attention to. When he mentioned something about birds being used as spies she instinctively glanced up. Her eyes narrowed. Aerial surveillance huh? As open as this land was, it would be easy for them to be seen. Which meant that someone probably already knew the company increased from five to six sometime before the marshes. The question was what to do about it.

She could, quite possibly, refract light and bend it around them to conceal their images. It would only work while they stood still, though. She never managed to master that ability while moving nor over so many people. There was, she concluded, no point in doing anything majorly magical at that present moment. It was bad enough Strider didn't trust her much, but if she revealed herself as a being who bent wild magic to her will there would be consequences. No one had asked her originally about being able to use magic and Brianna suspected that elves in this world probably couldn't. At least, she amended, not the way she could.

They continued east into the hills toward Weathertop. While the Hobbits seemed more cheerful to be out of the marshes (which Brianna had to admit was a relief) Brianna felt increasingly uneasy.

That night, there were closer to Weathertop and the cave Strider was angling for them to stay in for the evening. Brianna, who was used to sleeping on the ground by then, allowed Strider to keep his cloak and dozed lightly on the ground. She hadn't planned on sleeping in any case. Things were just too quiet for her liking. It was her experience that things hunting people were never too far behind.

In the morning, Brianna found herself in the company of Merry and Pippin with Strider following closely behind the three. Frodo and Sam were allowed to take the lead while Strider guarded their rear. It spoke of how wary the man and Brianna were of their current position for this temporary truce.

She took the time to ask the two Hobbits beside her about the world's calendar and found, much to her delight, that it was similar to the one used in her world.

"We left Bree six days ago, actually," informed Pippin.

"You came to us around that time as well. We just narrowly escaped the Black Riders that time and we were all on edge," continued Merry.

Brianna nodded. She could respect that. She'd have reacted the same way. It was why she tried to be less obstinate as she normally was. There was a time and place for a fiery personality and that time and place was not it.

"You say it's the beginning of October, what is the numerical date?" she asked.

"The fifth of October," replied Pippin helpfully.

They ascended into the hills at noon following a cunningly lain path. Strider took the lead again and Brianna found herself treading through the hard stone slightly behind him. The path was an old path with many large stones littering its width. The Hobbits, like Brianna, seemed to fair better along this trail than in the marshes and she wasn't surprised. Even in its current disrepair the going was smoother than it had been. They still had to be careful. There were enough sharp stones hidden in the myriad of rocks, shards, and pebbles proving the going to be slightly treacherous. Brianna's boots, worn and ragged as they were, wouldn't protect her feet from a meticulously sharpened (or pointed) stone hidden among the natural debris. There were also the Hobbits to consider with their bare feet. They might have been able to withstand many troublesome obstacles, but there was always that one possibility something could slice through anyhow.

Noon had passed and the second hour of the afternoon struck by the time they made it to the southern end of the path. The hill, Weathertop, loomed over the rest and was evidently the highest point in the area. Strider lift Sam and Pippin with Brianna while he took Frodo and Merry to the top of the hill.

"Who is this Gandalf?" Brianna asked once Strider and the other two were away.

Sam glanced at her while Pippin answered, "He's a wizard and is the one who urged Frodo and Sam to leave The Shire once he got wind of the Black Riders tracking him."

Gravelly, Brianna nodded. Sam, seemingly satisfied with Pippin's answer, moved to explore the small dell. The elf, more aware of likely danger than they were, stopped them hastily.

"Let me look around first," she suggested.

When the other's acquiesced, though Sam looked less trusting than Pippin did, Brianna swiped the layered strands of her braided and messy bronze hair out of her face and made it her business to take a look around. Human tracks were evident, most likely hunters or Rangers like Strider, because of their light tread. Firewood was set up in the back of the dell seemingly cut a week ago. Recently, she noted, a fire had been burned in the mediocre roasting pit and signs of a recent, probably two-day old, camp were about. The heavy imprint of a boot was seen with several others mulling about. These heavier imprints looked to her like armored footwear.

With a frown and a curt command to stay inside, Brianna slipped out of the dell and into the surrounding slopes. Tracks of the same ilk spattered around along with hoofmarks. Despite the fact that she found a suitable water source, Brianna returned to where Sam and Pippin waited for her with a very unhappy frown on her face.

"Set up camp, I'll tell Strider about this when he returns. There is a small stream a few meters away, but don't go outside just yet. I want him to take a look at something," she instructed.

Strider, Frodo and Merry returned from their inspection at the top of the hill about fifteen minutes after Brianna had given the two Hobbits in her charge instructions. The ranger's face looked troubled and his blue eyes met Brianna's teal for a moment. There was a guarded look about them, like he saw something that he didn't like. Mentally she allowed herself to sigh while keeping her overall appearance calm and collected. Might as well give him the bad news. He already looked quite prepared for it.

So she told him about the bit of scouting she conducted around their camp site, explained everything she saw in as minute detail as she possibly could and instructing him to look around at the disturbed earth outside. Strider didn't seem to be in an argumentative mood and acquiesced to her suggestions. This left a very confused elleth with four silent Hobbits, two of which looked incredibly frightened.

Strider returned shortly after looking uncertain. The questioning look Brianna sent him prompted the ranger to explain what exactly the problem was.

"Rangers, my kin, have been here in the last five days. They left the firewood behind. I cannot tell if Gandalf was here or not, but it seems as though many have passed through since the rangers left. Frodo, Merry and I also observed the Black Riders not too far from here," he explained.

Brianna pursed her lips and fought to remain silent. In situations like this, she was normally attempting to draw beings like this to her so she may dispose of them. This hiding and running they were doing did not sit well with her despite the fact that she knew it was needed.

"Wouldn't it be best for us to leave?" asked Sam.

Strider frowned and paced the inside of their little dell carved within the hillside. Brianna watched him mutely as she situated herself on the dirt floor. She could, she figured, make it harder for the riders to get to them. Maybe this would be a prudent moment to reveal the fact that she had elemental powers? She caught the look on Strider's face and decided against it. The ranger was not in a mood where news like that would be well received.

"I am afraid, Sam, that I cannot think of a better place for us to hide that would require us to travel well into the night," he finally told them.

"Engaging them is out of the question… where I come from, wraiths can't see. What about your world's?" Brianna asked.

She asked because even in the dark in her world, wraiths had lost their visual senses, even at night. The only time they gained a semblance that sense back was during the new moon where the only bright things shining in the sky are stars. She wondered about these wraiths who were so radically different than the ones she was used to.

"The horses can see and the Riders will use spies to seek out what they hunt. They cannot see light, only shadows, which means that they most likely beheld our silhouettes on Weathertop. When night falls, their vision improves," he explained.

Brianna paled as Sam asked, "Did they see you three?"

"Our shapes, yes."

Mentally, Brianna was cursing every evil entity known to her while her brain wracked for a plan. She would give her right arm for a car or motorcycle at this present time. Let those Riders try and catch up to that! Unfortunately, the only thing that seemed the logical course of action was to hide from the evil and fervently pray that they didn't see them. Failing that, confronting them could be an option to allow for one party to escape, or maybe even crippling them long enough to get everyone safely away.

"I take it that their hearing and sense of smell is impeccable?" Brianna asked in a grumpier manner than she meant.

"Worse, they can smell our blood and undoubtedly already have," answered Strider.

Brianna leaned forward and rubbed her hands along her face suddenly feeling worn out.

"Do your wraiths like fire?" she asked.

Strider moved to the back of the dell and drew out several logs as he answered, "No, fire is our friend in this wilderness."

"Maybe," began Sam, "it is also as good as shouting 'here we are'."

Once the fire was started the group was reminded of the fact that they hadn't eaten and set about making supper.

"I do not see how our food can last, we have been eating more than we ought and Brianna has joined our group with no supplies to her name. We still have two weeks to go before we reached Rivendell," worried Frodo.

Brianna, feeling guilty, apologized for dropping on them so suddenly. Strider, feeling gracious for some reason, reassured her.

"Do not worry yourself, Miss Davis. We have what we may need for the time being. Once our stores run out we can gather and hunt as needed. With that being said, it is probably best that we do that as needed. We are traveling in haste and hunting and gathering will take too long. Tighten your belts and think of great feasts in Rivendell," he said with a bit of humor that seemed lost on the Hobbits but made Brianna smile.

Night fell and with it came cold. Brianna, being an elf, didn't feel it as greatly as her Hobbit companions did and Strider seemed to be of the same disposition. The ranger began to tell them historical stories of the happenings in Middle-Earth. Brianna silently listened, taking all of it in.

Merry, after a while, asked about this person named Gil-Galad (an elf she found out), but while the tale concerned them and their quest (according to Strider) the Ranger refused to allow talk of it. Not with the servants of their enemy so close.

"Brianna," began Sam after a minute of contemplation, "you're an elf. Do you have any tales about your people from this 'Earth' place?"

Brianna blinked, momentarily stunned out of her reverie, and answered, "Many. My mentor is one of my world's Eldar and leading elven historian. She's recorded everything from before the beginning of time to now."

Strider seemed interested, "I assume that, with your mentor being referred to as "Eldar" that she is quite old."

Brianna nodded, "Oldest of five since the beginning of our race. When evil in our world first became known, she was younger than me."

"Is she a force against this evil?" asked Frodo.

"One of the great Five. She tends to fade more into the background, though and has a knack for becoming the mentor of the greatest names in elven and human society," she replied.

Pippin piped up, "Are there any songs about them? These great names?"

Brianna remained silent as she wracked her brain for any good ones she happened to know. There were a few, several that she had worked to translate from elvish to English, or common tongue as Strider called it.

"Do you want songs or ballads?" Brianna asked.

"What is the difference?" Strider inquired before the Hobbits could reply.

Brianna considered her answer for a moment before launching in her brief explanation, "Songs depict image, deeds, thoughts or feelings of a specific moment. A ballad is a tale."

"Do a song in your original language," Sam practically begged.

Brianna thought long and hard about a good candidate for a song to represent her people. She settled on one that was most relevant to her family.

"I know a few good ones, but the best in my repertoire is about one of my ancestors from long ago. A former queen of the elven race. She was known as the Mother of Wisdom by her people and is still referred to as such today," she explained.

"Well do not leave us in suspense! Sing it for us!" implored Merry eagerly.

Brianna felt her cheeks grow red despite herself. Singing had never been much of a passion for her and she had only seriously learned because of one particular hunt she had to go undercover for. The young elleth told them as much and earned several hands airily waving off her insistence of a poor quality voice.

"I can assure you, Miss Davis, that should I be implored to sing something my voice will be worse than yours. At least indulge us this once," prodded the ranger.

Knowing that Strider was only doing this to better keep the Hobbits' minds off of the ever looming darkness threatening their hiding place but unhappy about the prospect of singing in front of an audience, Brianna finally relented much to her chagrin.

"_Máthair an eagna,_

(Mother of wisdom)

_beag fós cothrom_

(small yet fair)

_Deontas do dúinn do lámh shábháil_

(Grant to us your saving hand)

_Tá do focail gear_

(Your words are sharp)

_Mar contúirteach mar chlaíomh_

(As perilous as a sword)

_Gearr síos ár naimhde_

(Cut down our enemies)

_Sábháil do chuid daoine_

(Save your people)

_I gcás tá muid cinnte go bás_

(For we are certain to die)

_Do dhaoine caoin ar do shon, is mó na n-oidhrí_

(Your people cry for you, greatest of heirs)

_Do dhaoine caoin ar do shon, is mó na n-oidhrí_

(Your people cry for you greatest of heirs)

_Maiden de honor, Wielder as cruach_

(Maiden of Honor, wielder of steel)

_Cé go díreach agus an ceart_

(Though Just and right)

_Bheannaigh le solas naofa Dé_

(Blessed by God's sacred light)"

When she had finished she was met with quite a few questions from the Hobbits. Sam was interested in the language, as was Frodo, in which Brianna explained it to be an elven dialect a certain group of humans picked up from her people. Upon further inquiry, she went on to explain a few interesting components of her language.

"There were a few times when my people were so scattered from each other that our language diverged to the point where no one could understand each other. The ancestor I was singing about came across this problem while she was in exile from her people. We have at least six different dialects from around my world," she informed.

Strider, who always seemed to be on high alert whenever she was doing anything, asked, "You say around as if you believe your world is round."

Brianna blinked at him suddenly confronted with a major cultural difference she hadn't even anticipated.

"My world, the planet Earth, is round," she said slowly more for her benefit than theirs.

"Planet?" asked Frodo who looked very confused.

"What's a planet?" Merry asked.

Brianna sighed. How was she supposed to explain this? She wasn't a scientist, never had a good grasp on it, so the fact that her friends were confused about her wording threw her into a rut. She couldn't explain this, at least not in words they could understand or even comprehend.

"I, honestly, have no idea how I can explain it. It's been widely accepted because we've… taken a good look at it if that makes any sense," she supplied.

Strider seemed to take this as a cue to change the subject. He brought up a tale that he knew and wished to tell them briefly. This brought the Hobbits to his attention again and Brianna, who was blushing from embarrassment, listened quietly from her place in the shadows of the fire. The Ranger chanted the verses in their shared common language, roughly translating it from his world's elvish (she didn't know if it was similar to the one she grew up with or not). It was about Beren and Luthien, a human man and an elven woman and how they met. Even though Strider chanted the translated version, Brianna found herself enraptured by the words. There was something eerily beautiful in the way his voice echoed around the camp. She wasn't sure if it was the song (she knew it was a song) or if it was the way he seemed to revere the words he spoke.

He stopped, somewhat abruptly in Brianna's personal opinion, sighed and said, "That is a song in the mode that is called ann-thennath among the elves…"

"Oh," the apprehension which dawned on Brianna made itself known to the others before she could quite stop herself.

At her soft outburst, Strider studied her for a moment before going on, "Miss Davis seems to know what I speak of. This particular literary style is hard to render in our common tongue, so what I relayed this night is but a rough echo of the whole. As I said, the song is far longer than what I have just relayed, but the ending is hard to decipher. I can finish with saying that Beren was the son of Barahir and Luthien Tinuviel, the daughter of the elven king Thingol."

The names were familiar to her and she didn't quite know why. Had her aunt or her mentor mentioned this before? It was most likely Professor Laurel Moruni. She had been known to travel worlds in her younger days when the elves spread out across the stars in the early days when man first appeared. Had she actually been there to bare witness to the story?

"Beren and Luthien fell in love," continued Strider, "In those days the Great Enemy of whom our own was merely a servant at the time dwelt in Angband in the North and the elves of the West coming into Middle Earth made war upon him."

Brianna tapped her right knee with her right finger while her brows furrowed in thought. She had definitely heard this before. Professor Laurel Moruni had gone to this newer world sung into creation by the three songs of Beleghir, Islingir, and Ainafea because of a growing evil running rampant at the time. She had said she met a young elf woman named Luthien going to Angband to rescue a man captured by this horrific evil being reminiscent of Aleyel ben-Schachar. She had helped them get into the fortress before leaving to help the armies looking to fight the evil warlord.

"Tinuviel rescued Beren from the dungeons of Sauron and together they passed through great dangers before casting down the Great Enemy from his thrown and took the brightest of Silmarils to be the bride-price for them to wed. It was when they left from the fortress that Beren was slain by a Wolf and died in Luthien's arms. She chose, then, to become mortal so that she may follow Beren in death. Luthien and Beren had a promised lineage among the elf-lords of old and there are still those of whom she was the foremother. Elrond of Rivendell is of that kin. For of Beren and Luthien was born Dior, Thingol's heir; and of him Elwing the White whom Earendil wedded, he that sailed the ship out of the mists of the world into the seas of heaven with the Silmaril on his brow. Of Earendil came the Kings of Numenor."

Brianna watched his face closely, not because she already knew the tale he spoke of, but because as he spoke his demeanor changed as well as the tone of his voice. This tale was personal to him, she realized. Why she didn't know, but she suspected that she might find out later if she was patient. Patience wasn't a virtue she excelled at, but in this case she decided to make the attempt.

With the story ended and the clouds covering the waxing moon climbing slowly high above the hills, the Hobbits moved and stretched. Brianna remained where she was while sorting through her version of the tale. From the way Professor Moruni had told it, the part Beren and Luthien played had been one aspect (though immensely important) of the account. Then again, the professor was a historian and loved looking at the bigger picture and the intricate details. Plus, she had only heard about what went on in Angband from Luthien after the battle. She wanted to talk about it more with Strider, to inform him that her people had been to this place before and to compare notes, but something stopped her. Whatever that thing was, it had nothing to do with the lingering distrust still settled between herself and the man. In actuality, her huntress senses tingled as a cold feeling washed over her. Brianna breathed in deeply before gagging.

Strider and the Hobbits looked over at her startled and Brianna hissed, "Death, I smell death!"

The Ranger acted first instructing them, "Get behind the fire!"

Everyone did, including Brianna who was none too keen on fighting a type of wraith she had never faced before. She did, however, draw her sword and sifted through the various ways she could employ the elements best used against anything wraith-like in nature.

She was certain that she saw it before the others did, three dark shadows creeping across the night like puffs of smoke. Her inclination towards fire-based lightcraft jumped to her hands and the flames they hid behind shimmered. They were cornered, one of the things she hated the most about their position.

When they seeped into the shelter they had each of them looked directly at her. Convinced that they could see her, at least, Brianna remained crouched behind the fire and raised her sword into a position that would guarantee immediate physical retribution should the… things… cross the line of flames. They probably would have left them be had Frodo not done the very thing that would have completely alerted them to his presence. He, most likely in his fear and probably from the will of the thing itself, put on the ring.

She couldn't see him. She couldn't even smell him. She could hear him breathing and that was her only indication of his whereabouts. The leader of the wraiths drew out a long, sleek, sword. The forbidding presence emitting from its blade caused her to freeze. Brianna clenched her blade while becoming all the more certain that, while the group couldn't see Frodo, the wraiths could. This became evident when the thing plunged its sword to the place where Frodo had been a moment prior and a loud shout accompanied by a cry of "Elbereth" was heard.

The moment the leader of the Nazgul (thats who she figured they were) stumbled back releasing an unearthly shriek Brianna's base instincts took over.

Magic was a base component to her race. It was what she grew up learning to taper from wild magic to something somewhat controlled. There were few instances where her magic came to her protection without her knowing. This just happened to be one of them.

The fire grew, shimmered and then launched itself at the Nazgul. This was when both her and Strider seemed to have found their ability to move and the two simultaneously launched themselves at the wraiths. The ranger wielded a flaming log. Brianna went at them with the full intent to kill, her magic channeled along the point of her sword.

Strider had been right about the fire. It seemed that after they realized two members of the group had no issue with using fire to fend them off, the wraiths fled.

They stood there for a moment, Strider seemingly forgetting that he had a burning log in his hands and Brianna just attempting to regain her wits. Back on Earth, wraiths were frightening to deal with, but they didn't even hold a candle to what the Nazgul had. The smell of evident death notwithstanding. Her world's wraiths were merely summoned demons, after all. They weren't an embodiment of human evil, they were just beasts who couldn't think. These wraiths were nothing like that. These wraiths could think. These wraiths probably realized she was the one who created the fire. Which meant they would contact their master. Which meant that her cover was blown.

She shuddered and finally sheathed her blade. She caught the look in Strider's blue eyes, questioning and slightly accusatory.

"Fire does not do something like that of its own accord," he stated bluntly.

Brianna shrugged, "No, it doesn't. I provoked it, though not precisely by choice."

Before he could ask her meaning behind that little riddle, Sam called out for them. Turning, they noticed Frodo prone on the ground and that vile blade which caused Brianna to freeze up lay a few feet away from them. He looked white and there was blood pouring out of a wound in his chest.

Strider leapt forward and inspected the wound while Brianna went to look at the blade.

The tip seemed to have broken off, from what she could see. The blade itself was a dirty stone grey, one that seemed to suck up the light shining around them. She could think of every horrific thing that blade could do. How, in the wrong hands, it could call up a sickness of death that would take the joy out of people's hearts and replace it with cold, hard, fear. The blade spoke to her. Told her that her light would blink out. Its black tendrils slinking around her ready to choke the life from her body-.

"Brianna!"

Hands grasped her shoulders firmly and pulled her away from the blade; dragging her body forcibly away from the deadly blade and back towards the fire. Blinking and gasping for breath she hadn't known she'd been holding, Brianna looked up at a worried looking Strider hovering over her.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

She nodded and shook herself out of the evil trance which attempted to injure her.

"What is that thing?" she finally breathed and mentally winced at how her voice sounded exactly like she felt; scared to death.

Strider kept her steady while he replied, "That was a Morgul blade. Frodo's been stabbed by it."

She shuddered. Her body didn't seem to stop shaking.

"What do Morgul blades do?" she asked in a more steady voice.

Strider's lips pursed and he glanced at Frodo and the other Hobbits before meeting her eyes again.

"I will tell you and the others after we get to a safe location. Merry, Pippin, pack up the area. Sam, see to Frodo. I will check for enemies. Brianna keep the fire going and make sure that no one touches that blade," he ordered.

Brianna nodded dumbly, not in the mood to argue. She scooted to where Frodo was and reached out to feel his skin. She almost drew back from how cold his skin was. She glanced at Sam.

"Bri, what's wrong?" he asked.

The elf searched with her arm, feeling through the liquid within Frodo, just as the elven healers had taught her. She located the poison near the knife point. Going off of the fact that wraiths couldn't stand fire or warmth of any kind, she began to send a steady stream of heat into the little Hobbit's body.

"He's too cold. Whatever that thing did to him injected some sort of poison into Frodo's system. I'm warming his body up and attempting to slow down the poison. There's only so much I can do, though, without hurting him," her frustration bled through her tone and Sam seemed on the verge of panic.

"I thought I'd never say this, but I wish Strider stayed," he muttered.

Brianna nodded in agreement, "So do I."

"Bri, we're done packing," Merry said softly as he and Pippin sat down near the fire.

She barely acknowledged him, too busy keeping the fire going and helping Frodo. It was after they said this when the man in question returned. Strider resembled a wraith in the way he swooped into their camp and back among them.

"Are we able to go?" she asked.

"Yes," he replied.

He moved towards her, Sam and Frodo as if to pick up the latter, but Brianna stopped him by heaving the little Hobbit onto her back.

"I can keep him warm while we walk. Just lead the way," she said with an air of authority she rarely showed to the rest of the group.

To his credit, he only hesitated for a moment, but the situation being as dire as it was, he didn't stall for too long. With a nod in her direction, he instructed the rest of the Hobbits to ready the pony, Bill, and led them out of their former campsite. He stopped only to wrap the blade in a thick cloth and stuff it into his cloak before taking them as quickly away from Weathertop as he could.

* * *

***Few things to Note* **

**1) I did not use elvish for Brianna's song, because elvish doesn't have a translator like Google. I did, however, take the next best thing to elvish, which was Irish. I really don't know how good the translation is, I don't know Irish, but if anyone reading this happens to know it, feel free to PM me or leave a review with corrections. I put the English in parenthesis so that you all can at least see where I was trying to go with the "Song". The song is written in simplistic free-verse and there is more to it than what I have down, but, like the Lay of Luthien, it's extremely long. She sang the first chorus. **

**2) Aragorn seems to be taking her display of magic very well. He's not, but due to her reaction to the Morgul blade, Aragorn is more inclined now to believe that she's not in league with their enemies.**

**3) I know I only did one scene from Aragorn's POV. The next chapter will have a lot more of Aragorn awesomeness.**

**4) I had been wondering how the effect of Middle Earth's evil would effect her. After all, she's come from earth, where evil is more widespread and hidden verses Sauron and his forces being quite obvious in their movements. There's also the fact that Brianna is used to battling an upfront evil. They might lurk in the shadows, but her people were so numerous that it didn't matter. There was always an escape. Middle Earth isn't quite like that. Evil has festered in the land for a long time and the world's inhabitants haven't known true peace for many years. Darkness is a lot more sneaky here and preys on the hearts and minds of the people around them which is why Brianna was so affected by the Morgul blade. More about her world will be revealed in due time.**

**5) Elves from Brianna's world can jump between dimensions. They just haven't done so in over four thousand years. Because of earlier records, Brianna already knew of the fact that other worlds existed, which is why she's taking this transition better than one would think. And she does like to keep busy, after all.**

**So, like it? Hate it? Despise it? Review and tell me what you think!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**The Lifeline**

***I would like to take a moment to thank everyone who reviewed the first chapter of this story. You all are awesome! One thing before I go on, if you are confused about anything that I throw in here, go right ahead and ask! I have a tendency to write something that makes total and complete sense in my head but confuse everyone who reads it.***

***The languages I use in this chapter are Irish Gaelic, Icelandic, and Sindarin for my elvish. Brianna knows all three of them with Irish Gaelic being her mother tongue and Sindarin being her second elvish tongue she is most fluent in.***

***I pretty much follow the book until the end of the chapter. The further alone we get from the beginning the more I'm going to deviate. All familiar words and phrases (and Sindarin) belong to J. R. R. Tolkien and are cited from The Lord of the Rings. **

* * *

Strider was preoccupied. For one, the enemy seemed to have vanished and not a trace of their presence could be felt in the land he scouted. For another, there was the troubling display Miss Brianna Davis had shown the night before in retaliation to Frodo's stabbing. He frowned at the memory, partly because of his reaction to it and partly because of the fact that their newly joined and quite mysterious companion possessed wild magic. Not only did she neglect to let him know about this small fact, but she also used this magic without thought beforehand. Only those who had lived with this sort of power for years would be able to have such magic controlled by instinct alone.

While his concerns about who this elf woman, Brianna Davis, plagued his conscience there was Frodo's current predicament he had to worry about as well. Frodo had been stabbed by a Morgul blade. There was every chance that he was lowly turning into a wraith. The slowed process could easily be attributed to Brianna's basic knowledge of healing. Even he had to admit that what she considered basic knowledge was far beyond anything he was currently capable of. This would have worried him if he had been concerned with her allegiance. After her experience with the Morgul blade currently hidden in his cloak he was certain that she wasn't an alley of Sauron. Had she fallen to shadow, the blade would not have affected her as it did.

He sighed. Despite her best efforts, Brianna had informed him that Frodo would still turn into a wraith if they didn't make it to Rivendell in time. The tip of the blade was embedded near the Hobbit's heart and the outworlder had told him how unequipped she was to remove it. The blade was like a poison, slowly disintegrating as its black magic lowered Frodo's body temperature. She didn't have the resources, nor the courage, to try what she knew needed to be done. After she gave her reasons Strider couldn't help but agree with her despite his lack of understanding in a few subjects she told him.

When Strider finally returned to the grassy campsite, the Hobbits started with Sam drawing his sword and hovering over Frodo and Brianna who, he figured, most likely had heard his approach and continued administering a strange bubbling liquid on Frodo's wound. This sight had not given him much encouragement. Where their new elf companion seemed to be trying as hard as she could to gain their trust; especially his, he realized that he had neglected to make a greater attempt at getting the Hobbits to fully trust him. In fact, they seemed more apt to trust the outworlder with strange magic than he, who was recommended by Gandalf to guide them.

As a Ranger, he should have been used to this, but their readiness to trust someone who was the least familiar with their world and who willingly kept secrets from them was off-putting. Maybe it had something to do with his appearance or personality? That could be it. Brianna was primarily open, he knew that from the beginning, she just didn't answer questions never voiced. Her sense of self-preservation was more of action instead of thought. After all, her instincts, it seemed, were what first attacked the Black Riders.

"I am not a Black Rider, Sam, nor am I in league with them. I was attempting to discover something of their movements but I have found nothing," he informed.

He was most interested in Brianna's reaction to what he had to say. The elleth merely frowned and continued to tend to Frodo's wounds, but from the look on her face he knew that she had a semblance of a theory forming within the confines of her mind. He was tempted to ask her what she believed the Rider's movements meant, but refrained from doing so.

"What happened, exactly?" Frodo asked after a moment.

Strider glanced at him and answered, "We couldn't see the Riders, but Brianna could. I suspect that they could see her and then you the moment you placed the ring on your finger. The moment the leader attacked you Brianna retaliated by igniting the fire and then jumping to them with her sword drawn. I fended them off with one of the burning logs. The riders fled, but I am certain they will come again another night. You have been stabbed by a Morgul blade and, sooner or later if we do not find help, the wound will fester and subdue you to their will."

Strider caught the young Hobbit's look of frightened confusion and was about to expand when Brianna interjected, "You're turning into a lesser version of them. Something they can control of their own needs. I've seen this once, but not like what I believe Strider is implying."

Sam choked with tears while Frodo resumed staring at the cloudy sky while Brianna continued her ministrations. She seemed to be searching the wound; poking and prodding the affected area.

"Do not despair, Sam! You must trust me now. Your Frodo is made of sterner stuff than I had guessed and I am certain he will resist the evil power of our enemies longer than they expect. I will do all I can to help heal him," he reassured all of them, including himself.

Brianna looked up at him and asked, "Is there a plant in this region that could help slow the poison? I'd love to cut it out of him, but I neither have the tools nor the medication needed for that type of surgery."

Strider met her gaze. She looked desperate and he found himself wondering at her. Just how close was she to Frodo's wound? How much could she sense? From what he gathered by looking at her, it seemed like there was much that troubled her concerning Frodo's well-being. Her worried expression convinced him of something nagging in the back of his mind for hours now. He made his decision.

"Anna, guard him well while I am away," he muttered and took his leave.

He didn't see the stunned expression on her face as he departed.

* * *

It took everything she had to school my features back into an impassive expression. There were only a few times anyone called her "Anna" and it was normally a nickname used as a personal endearment.

But she didn't stop too long to dwell on it because Frodo, at that moment, winced as he attempted to move his arm and found that it didn't want to shift. Brianna returned her full attention back to him and placed her hand on the open wound. Her eyes fluttered closed and concentrated on transferring any heat that she could to him.

"Just rest and try to keep as much strength as you can, Frodo. I won't let anything happen to you," she reassured him.

Frodo nodded and laid his head back with another wince. Brianna fervently wished that she had some sort of painkiller with her and cursed every single evil, vile, thing she could think of for not thinking to bring any. Of course, this wasn't particularly her fault since the hunt she had gone on before falling into this world had been rather abrupt and she hadn't the time to prepare any sort of personal medical pack. She did the only thing she could do; keep Frodo as warm as possible.

"Sam, Merry, Pippin, get some rest. I'll keep watch," she suggested.

The three weary Hobbits nodded and took the brief chance that they had to curl up in their respective make-shift beds and catch at least a few hours of sleep.

Left to her own devices Brianna did the only other thing she could do. She sang as softly as she could, a song a healer she knew very personally sang over patients affected with a despairing sickness. It was old elvish, the original root language known best to those who were called The Eldar in her world, a small remnant of a time long past. There were few of the songs of old she had bothered to learn, but the songs of healing woven by the oldest of elven healers always seemed to please her the most.

So she sang it now while keeping Frodo's body temperature above ninety-six degrees. She dared not let it get above ninety-eight. Burning out the poisonous metal could easily backfire and cause the Hobbit's death instead of sweet salvation.

"_Lækna vinur minn,_

_(heal my friend)_

_Guð lífsins lengja hönd þína_

_(God of life extend your hand)_

_Þvo þetta sár við vötn hreint_

_(Wash this wound with waters pure)_

_Hreinsa veikindi sem drepur_

_(Cleanse the sickness which kills)_

_Mend hold, dreifa eitrinu_

_(Mend the flesh, disperse the poison)_

_Svala ótta þessa manns_

_(Quench this man's fears)_

_Sefa áhyggjur hans_

_(Sooth his worry)_

_Eyða myrkrinu_

_(Dispel the darkness)_

_Og lauga vinur minn í ljósi þínu_

_(And bathe my friend in your light)."_

She continued this soothing melody until morning, working her vocal chords in a gentle pitch, and weaved the verses she had managed to memorize into the air of the waning night. For hours she kept this up, allowing her voice to drift through the air in an almost loving manner. Her notes were as pure as she could make them, and as gentle as her breath would allow. Mentally Brianna considered the possibility of finding a vocal tutor in this Rivendell place the Hobbits and Strider had spoken of; especially since it seemed as though the power of song was most potent here. She was finding this out as her lyric drifted over Frodo and washed away the painful doze he seemed to have drifted into and allowed him to descend into a dreamless sleep.

When the night lightened into a dull grey, Strider returned. Brianna hadn't heard him enter their camp, nor did she see him. Her mind had fallen into a half-trance as she went through a repeat of the ancient tune for the third time that night. She was so far gone, that she gave no recognition when Strider placed his hand on her shoulder to let her know of his return. It wasn't until she ceased singing and blinked out of her concentrated stupor that she realized he was sitting in front of her crushing a plant emitting a pleasant aroma into the air.

She gaped dumbly at him for a few moments before realizing where she was and who surrounded her. Brianna blushed, certain that he could see it but didn't care. She had forgotten how easy it was for her to lose herself in music.

"Those vowels did not sound like the ones you sang earlier," Strider remarked while stirring the crushed contents of the refreshing plant into a paste.

It took her another moment to realize that he was speaking to her before she answered, "Ancient Elvish. Older than time itself. This song is something that a healer I knew back in my world sang over patients while she treated them. I couldn't think of any other way to help him, so I started singing. On reflection, I believe that hadn't been the wisest idea I ever had. If we were attacked, I wouldn't have noticed."

Strider fixed her with his piercing, blue-eyed, stare for a while before saying, "I do not think so."

Unsure whether or not she should ask him to elaborate, Brianna searched for a different topic. She quickly found one in the form of his strange, yet lovely smelling, paste. Without much hesitation, she inquired about it.

"This is Athelas, or kingsfoil. It does not grow in the bare hills, but in the thickets away south on the road. The Men of the West brought it to Middle-Earth a long time ago as a healing plant. It is not widely known in the North but to the few of us who wander the wild. It has great virtues, but I am afraid that its healing powers will do little to help us in this case," he told her.

She nodded and digested the information. Strider, realizing that she wasn't going to reply immediately, leaned over their wounded friend and began to apply the wonderfully scented paste. There was something happy about the way its aroma wafted around the campsite filling her nostrils and soothing her own cares and worries. For such a dark world as Middle-Earth was, this joyous little plant seemed to be one of the brighter lights in the realm. Such a thought put her at ease and helped her banish the lingering fear she experienced the night before.

The effect of the plant roused the others from their slumber along with Frodo who felt, while not better, less like a cooling corpse. During their meager breakfast, Brianna, Sam, Pippin and Merry were discussing the road ahead. It was a rather important topic, they felt, since Frodo's wound would definitely play a part in how far they could travel a day. It was calculated that, with Brianna carrying the ring bearer on her back feeding him with a constant stream of warmth, Strider acting as both scout and immediate protector, and the last few of the company being completely useless at everything involving outdoor survival and enemy invasion their chances of reaching Rivendell in a timely manner were slim to none. It was a sobering realization for all of them.

"You think they might have been waiting for us?" Brianna asked after some contemplation.

The looks exchanged by the Hobbits (sans Frodo who was still trying to reconcile with his numbed limbs) told her that they hadn't thought of it until she said something. Strider, on the other hand, seemed to have reached a similar conclusion.

"We are in peril if we remain. I suggest we continue on. We can hardly meet greater danger wherever we go," he said.

Brianna hissed at his words and, almost snappishly, chided him, "I would not count on that, if I were you. Bad things tend to occur to people trying to hide."

Upon further discussion, they decided that their greatest advantage would be among the wooded areas of the land. This way, Brianna wouldn't have to remain awake for hours on end keeping Frodo warm and could acquire some hours of sleep. So, with a game plan figured out, the small company rose from their campsite and headed in a southerly direction.

* * *

They walked for days through the hills after crossing the hills filled with shrubbery dying back for the coming winter. There was little green to be seen and the group walked with fear resting heavy on their hearts. Brianna was more silent than worried about their current predicament. After the aroma of the crushed Athalas plant something akin to her old self-assurance returned to her and a certain spring returned to her step that did not go unnoticed by her traveling companions; especially Frodo whose concerns were dire. In the end, the two lagged in the back of the group trading interesting stories with one another. He told her of Bag End and the Shire while she spoke of her extremely amusing exploits as a student and apprenticed huntress back on Earth.

Brianna learned many things about Frodo that day. She discovered that he furry footed little friend had an uncle who liked to throw unnecessarily lavish birthday parties for his amusement, domestic squabbles between the country Hobbits, the different occupations a Hobbit could have, and the amazing descriptions of Hobbit feasts. In turn she made certain that he learned just as much about her previous life. She explained life for her, a young elleth born in the turn of the century, 1912, in an elven hospital residing in Dublin, Ireland during the peak of the Industrial Revolution. She told of her experiences growing up through several eras where only the evolution of technology was certain and everything wasn't. She talked about how the elven scientists worked in secret from the world of men, giving the human race aid where they could and sharing ideas and technologies that would mean the survival of the race.

When the river, Mitheithel, came into view Brianna noted that Frodo's spirits were lighter than they had been at the start of the journey as was the rest of the groups'.

"I am afraid that we must go back to the Road for a while. There is a bridge north of here that serves its purpose as the only safe crossing over this river," he supplied.

Brianna frowned, "And it's too early to sustain ice for an extended period of time."

They looked at her incredulously to which her only reply was, "Elemental". Soon, they redirected their trek to the north. The next day found them at the bridge Strider had mentioned. After a few brief observations they crossed it in haste. Brianna was happy about that. Everything was too quiet for her liking.

Unfortunately, the land beyond was equally unwelcoming as the first. As an elf from a world where knowledge was far more extensive and certain terms were used to describe land features in a more scientific way, Brianna was slightly interested to realize that they were entering a plateau; a forested plateau no less known as the Troll Shaws. Why the landscape received that name, she didn't know, but she had a feeling that there was an amusing story behind the name.

They had only been two days in that country when the weather turned wet. Brianna had solved the problem with them getting soaked through in the downpour by making discrete use of her control over rocks and sediments and bent the rock slabs over their camp just enough to fend off the cold rainwater. Unfortunately this did not help Frodo's predicament as much as she would have liked and Brianna found herself pulling another all-nighter keeping the wounded Hobbit warm. While the camp was sleeping, she filled the night with songs of fire dances performed long ago by her people meant for fast paced dances.

The next day, when Frodo had discovered her occasional songs in the night, he thanked her. Apparently, her singing had aided in keeping his wound from becoming too uncomfortable.

During breakfast, Brianna finally reigned in her pride and went to Strider to inquire about the odd way her magic seemed to manifest itself through her voice. He explained a little bit about how, in Arda, magic manifested itself the strongest through elven songs. Since her world had a semblance of songweaving he wasn't surprised that she could, at least, lighten the spirits of the company. This also strengthened her resolve in acquiring a tutor to fine tune her songweaving craft.

"I had believed you said that singing was not your strongest point," remarked Strider with a mischievous twinkle in his blue eyes.

Caught off guard by his sudden teasing mood Brianna replied in a bit of a hesitant daze, "I… I'm not, really. I hadn't been given formal training by choice. There was this… er… in my world we have this singing style called opera where actors and actresses get together to sing heavy-weight musical pieces that pertain to a certain plot. Anyway, there was this… he called himself The Phantom of the Opera as a sort of copy-cat for a musical the opera house performed every once in a while… and he would train innocent young women before stealing them off into the night and murdering them. I became just good enough to warrant 'has potential' from the thing and I worked to lure him out while plotting the best way to apprehend him or kill him. So I've never actually properly learned."

Her explanation was halted and red burned deeply along her cheeks. There was a lot about that particular mission she wanted to forget. It was part of the reason why she never bothered with refining her voice. If there was any place that could ruin one's enthusiasm for singing it was the lair of a homicidal vampire believing himself to be the Phantom of the Opera. While she had always enjoyed singing to some extent, she never had a good enough reason to finish fine tuning the talent. Now, in light of Middle Earth's interesting usage of magic Brianna seemed to have a reason to learn.

"You seem to know what you are doing," Strider replied.

Brianna shook her head, "In my world, singing is mostly used as a prayer and a soothing mechanism. My element craft is better suited for a number of different things, including healing. And before you ask, I only know the basics at best and am not nearly as skilled enough to help Frodo."

The humor was gone from his eyes at the mention of their friend's current predicament. After a moment used to regard her silently, Strider averted his gaze to the ground as if deep in thought.

"Yes, it seems as though you and I are equal in this instance," he muttered.

He stood after that last exchange and roused everyone to break camp. Brianna did her meager part and also took the time to raise the temperature of Frodo's body (which had drastically dropped as the winds of fall slowly turned colder). It was slowly getting to the point where her power wouldn't help Frodo. This became apparent as the day wore on when Frodo had told her that she held a slight glow about her. This revelation alarmed Aragorn and their pace seemed to quicken; bordering on too fast for the Hobbits and the bedraggled pony they brought with them.

When noon came around, they finally entered the forest Strider had been aiming for. The group's spirits rose as the trees and hills moved to completely obscure them. Unfortunately, it seemed as though they were heading out of the plateau and into foothills that rose to the mountains. At one point, they found that they had to climb much to everyone's dismay. It proved, even, to take too much out of Frodo and Brianna's administrations were growing increasingly useless.

They made for the road again, quickly finding a path that seemingly lead through the easier parts of the hills to the road. It was Pippin who discovered it and he had enthusiastically alerted them all to it. It didn't take much coaxing from them for Strider to allow for that particular path to be taken. Time was of the essence and the smoother they could make this trek, the better.

After a while of cautiously following the path they came upon a door hanging crookedly open on one hinge. They discovered that it was a troll cave.

"Seems abandoned," Brianna observed grimly while praying to the Trinity that she was right.

Strider seemed to agree with her, "It seems to have been long forsaken. I don't think we need to be afraid, but we shall continue on cautiously and see."

They left the hole and continued their trek down the path with Merry and Pippin leading ahead. They were out of sight for a second before both came running back with looks of identical terror reflected in their eyes.

"There are trolls!" Pippin said shrilly.

"In broad daylight?" Brianna asked incredulously.

The ranger seemed to be thinking the same thing as he swooped down and grabbed a stick from the leaf covered ground. Brianna glanced over her shoulder at Frodo and noted his contemplative expression. She raised an eyebrow. The Hobbit offered her a wan smile and she suddenly had a nagging suspicion about the trolls Merry and Pippin had found.

"We will come and look at them," Strider said.

* * *

It was midafternoon and the sun blazed high in the clear blue sky. From the way the wind seemed to be blowing, Strider predicted that there would be little chance of rain for the next few days. He was thankful for the clear mid-autumn day. With Frodo's injury they were hard pressed to keep him warm and days like this one aided their endeavors.

Clenching the stick in his hand and proceeding cautiously along the path, the dark haired ranger searched for any sign of the trolls Pippin had described. He caught their great bulk suddenly from beyond a thinning of the trees indicating that there was a clearing somewhat beyond the road. He veered off the path and into the underbrush closely followed by his companions. He stole a quick glance at Brianna who continued to keep Frodo steady against her back. From the twinkling of her teal eyes, he guessed that she already figured out what they would find and thought the whole venture was rather amusing.

He had noticed her growing confidence as their travels wore on. The longer she remained in Middle Earth, the more her spirits seemed to improve. She wasn't snappish or annoyed and seemed to be taking the continuously growing sense of danger and race against time in strides. It occurred to him while pondering her change in mood a while back that the elleth seemed to live for the constant danger and excitement. Upon careful observation he realized that his former conclusion might not be entirely the case. He was certain that suddenly being the hunted instead of the hunter excited her slightly, but it wouldn't make her confident. No, she was sure of herself because this type of thing was familiar territory. As frustrating as their predicament was, she was an elf of action.

He was also beginning to discover that Miss Brianna Davis was also an elf of good humor and light jokes. Strider figured that he should have been aggravated by her sometimes lack of seriousness in their situation, but for some reason he found it oddly comforting. In this instance, she had every right to be unconcerned. The Trolls weren't exactly alive.

The hand holding the stick lashed out at one of the trolls and rapped against its stone hindquarters with a resounded "thwack". Nothing happened and the Hobbits gasped in astonishment. Brianna and Frodo were the first ones to break out in peals of laughter though Strider noted that his was not nearly as hearty as their female companion's.

"Well," began Frodo, "I believe that we are forgetting our family history. These must be the trolls Gandalf caught quarreling over the right way to cook thirteen dwarves and one hobbit!"

"Must have taken them all night," Brianna deadpanned so dryly that Strider wondered if she had experience fighting them.

"I hadn't even noticed we were near the place!" exclaimed a star struck Pippin who was self-aware enough to eye the stone trolls with suspicion.

Strider schooled his features from appearing too amused by the situation, but from the look he caught on Brianna's face it was obviously with little succession. Even if the hobbits hadn't seen that smile which continued to threaten its way across his face she, apparently, did.

"Don't worry, Pippin, they won't jump up suddenly and try to eat us," Brianna reassured them, "Trolls can't survive in direct sight of the sun. It's why they tend to congregate in the northern climates instead of the south. Not enough cloud cover."

It seemed to Strider that trolls from Brianna's world were similar, if not identical, to the trolls of Middle Earth. It was the same with the Nazgul and her magic; similar but not completely the same. There were differences that separated her world from theirs and he didn't think she'd divulge all of her home's secrets.

"In any case," Strider began, "you might have noticed that one of them has a bird's nest behind his ear. That would make for a most unnatural ornament for a live troll."

For some reason that he honestly couldn't fathom at that present time, Strider glanced over to Brianna again and met her teal eyes glinting with humor and mischief. After a second of that shared look she let out a pleasant string of high pitched laughter closely followed by the deeper, tenor, voices of the hobbits. He couldn't help it at that point. He joined them, albeit with a softer show of mirth then the rest of his companions.

* * *

They reached the road by early evening much to Brianna and Frodo's personal delight. They both shared a love of forests, but that love only extended so far and her hobbit passenger's pain was slowly intensifying with a cold certainty. Her heat wasn't having nearly the effect on keeping his body warm and functioning as it had a few days prior and carrying him everywhere began to take its toll.

Her arms felt like lead and her steps were not as balanced as before. She also smelled, bad, and wished fervently for a nice long bath in scalding waters. Even nature's cold began to affect her slightly, though probably not to the extent of the hobbits and Strider.

As they searched for a good place to step onto the road, one that would leave the least evidence of their passing, when a noise that they all dreaded to hear met their ears. There was a horse approaching them from behind though they couldn't quite see who and what it was that came. As quick as mice, the group slipped off of the beaten path and into a thick patch of brush; a patch of densely growing hazel. As they peered from behind the foliage they spied the road glowing faintly in the waning light some few feet below them down the steep incline.

Brianna crouched with Frodo still nestled against her back; his arms wrapped around her shoulders and clinging tightly to her as a show of how worried he was. She wished she could see who it was, but the road winded and twisted enough through the towering hills that it was impossible for her to get a good look at this newcomer. Faintly, she caught the clear ringing of bells before the others did.

"This is not the sound of a Rider's horse," observed Frodo before she could ask.

As the sun's light faded beyond the horizon a white horse and his rider came into view gleaming in the shadows of the twilight. The rider was male and also the first of her kind Brianna had the pleasure of seeing since she first arrived in Middle Earth. Suddenly, she had a sneaking suspicion that their hiding place was rather useless.

This conclusion was confirmed when the elf looked up slightly and caught sight of them. He pulled his horse to a stop and dismounted.

"Ai na vedui Dunadan! Mae govannen!" came the clear tenor voice so musically crisp and clean.

Brianna rolled her eyes at the natural tone of this elf. Apparently, the Middle Earth elves were more musical than the elves of Earth. On the other hand, she had a feeling that the elves of Earth were far more powerful magically than those residing in this world, so she felt that the trade was fair.

Strider sprang from their hiding place and answered quickly in elvish. She had a feeling that she was the only one who fully understood what was being said.

"_I have been searching for you, Estel. The Nine are abroad and have been hunting the Ring-Bearer. I recently fought them off from the Bridge a few days ago,"_ said the male elf.

Brianna's eyes flickered to Strider who wasted no time in replying, "_We have kept off the road. I am afraid that the Ring-Bearer is gravely injured and we must get to Rivendell as soon as possible."_

"_Then let us make haste have your companions make themselves known,"_ instructed the blond elf urgently.

Strider turned and beckoned to them. Brianna, cautiously, made her way down the hill and to the rocky road with Frodo gazing at the newcomer with something akin to awe. She met this ellon's emerald green gaze. It was a little hard, seeing as she had to crane her neck up to see his slightly surprised eyes, but she managed. This was nothing new for her. Even on earth, there were still some elves who positively towered over everyone they met.

Finally she said, "Gail síla erin lû e-govaned 'wîn. I eneth nîn Brianna Davis. Ni edhel am Earth." (_A star shines on the hour of our meeting. I am called Brianna Davis. I am an elf from earth)_

He inclined his head to her and replied, "Nathlo nathal! Im Glorfindel am Imladris. Ni veren an gi ngovaned." _(Welcome guest! I'm Glorfindel of Imladris. I am happy to meet you)_

She cocked an eyebrow and asked, "Imladris?"

"Rivendell in Sindarin," explained Strider from one side of her and Glorfindel.

"You seem to be able to speak our tongue," remarked the golden haired elf pleasantly.

Brianna nodded and moved to adjust her grip on Frodo's short legs as she answered, "We call it by another name, but it is one of the elven dialects. One of the older ones, but certainly not the first. It's widely used among spellcasters and enchantment weavers and oathmakers."

"I look forward to learning about your people, then. The Lord Elrond has been aware of your presence in Middle Earth for some time as have I. There are many of us who wish to become acquainted with an outworlder," explained Glorfindel with a certain amount of reverence in his voice.

She tried not to blush from embarrassment but failed miserably at it. If there had been a way for her to move through the land unnoticed and alone she would have preferred it to the constant interest in her. There was only so many questions she could take being asked before feeling overcrowded.

"I am sure we'll cover several topics. But we have more pressing matters to attend to, like Mister Baggins' wound that is slowly turning him into a wraith," she said bluntly.

This seemed to startle the elf as he focused more closely on the injured hobbit resting on her back.

"Then allow me to take a look at him, if you will."

Brianna glanced at Strider who nodded and felt her mind ease. It wasn't that she didn't think this new individual wasn't nice or friendly, her problem was the experiences she had with elves not quite being as friendly as they seemed. But, if Strider trusted him then she supposed there was no harm in letting him inspect the wound Frodo sported.

She lowered Frodo to the ground and immediately moved to catch him when her dark haired friend's knees buckled under him. Brianna hissed out several unlady-like curses as she carefully helped her friend into a sitting position and acted as his second arm in removing the outer layer of his clothing.

Strider wasted no time in approaching his friend and showing him the Morgul blade. While they looked it over Brianna administered her traditional remedy to Frodo's freezing body in an effort to help her new friend regain some feeling in his limbs.

"There are evil words written on this hilt," observed Glorfindel gravely.

"So we observed. The blade tried to kill Miss Davis the night Frodo was stabbed," informed Strider helpfully.

"Then it may be best that you keep it in your care, but handle it little until we reach the house of Elrond. This wound is beyond my skill, but I will do what I can," promised Glorfindel.

The ellon worked while Brianna helped keep Frodo suspended. The hobbit gave some indication that his condition was improving. Despite that good news, Glorfindel looked as grave as Brianna felt. She had this conversation with Frodo multiple times after Frodo was stabbed. While she did not like the implications of this immediate temporal relief and what it could mean once the effects of the ellon's magic wore off, she kept her mouth firmly shut. There was always that possibility that she would be voicing exactly what Glorfindel and Strider already knew.

They had decided that Frodo was to ride Glorfindel's horse. The elf reasoned that it would provide a quick get-away from the wraiths should they have cause to suddenly attack them. Brianna immediately foresaw a problem with this line of reasoning, as logical as it was, and wasted no time in interjecting her opinion on the matter.

"Frodo might be able to get away on your horse, but if something happens to him, then there is no safety-net for him to fall back on should his wound take him," she insisted.

"Then what is it you suggest we do?" Strider asked.

She glanced up at him and nearly winced at the suspicious look he sent her. She had a feeling that he knew exactly what she was thinking and didn't quite approve of it. This didn't stop her from voicing her idea, though, and she did so with every authoritative air she could muster.

"Allow me to ride with him."

Glorfindel's reaction was encouraging, but it was Strider who responded negatively to the suggestion.

"Absolutely not," he deadpanned.

Brianna rounded on him, "And what do you think is going to happen if the poison overtakes Frodo while he's riding alone on a horse. Forgive me for saying this, Sir Glorfindel, but as intelligent as I know horses to be I sincerely doubt he'd be able to do much for Frodo should he completely lose consciousness."

The blond elf seemed quite open to the idea. She found this quite entertaining considering the fact that he knew her the least. Then again, he had heard of her coming from this Elrond fellow she heard so much about. Whether Stider was merely being difficult, sexist, or mistrustful she honestly didn't know.

"I think it may be a viable option," Glorfindel said diplomatically.

Brianna did her best to hide her triumph, but she knew it showed through either way. After all, it was the elf's horse and not Strider's. He didn't have the final say. Strider, though, didn't look very happy and, as she helped Frodo mount the great white horse, Brianna resolved to travel alongside her elf kin. Her primary reason for doing so was to avoid getting into another argument with Strider who, for some reason she couldn't quite fathom, was against her going alone to Rivendell with Frodo and Glorfindel's horse, Asfaloth. The other reason for her new traveling companion lay around her curiosity of the Ardenian elf culture.

She first asked about the languages. According to Glorfindel, there were once several dialects (though not different languages) across Middle Earth and into Valinor, the home of the Valor (holy beings). Through time, the primary speech turned to Sindarin, which became the only elven language spoken in Middle Earth. There was Quenyan, which he was old enough to remember and speak fluently, and then Common Tongue (which Brianna equated with an unrefined form of Victorian English) which stemmed from low Adunaic (a lesser form of Quenyan). There was little doubt in her mind by the end of that conversation she would be making great use of any language books she could find in Lord Elrond's keep. The wealth of information would be staggering.

After this Glorfindel inquired about her language and she answered for the benefit of everyone around her who were interested. Five different dialects stemmed from one root language and the tale behind that was long and boring, so she knew she would have to give the short version. Due to the sheer length of the tale (as it is more of a historical narrative than a brief explanation) I am writing the account down as a summary since Brianna has a tendency to add unnecessary explanations and the company thoroughly enjoyed interrupting her. Her explanation went something like this:

_The elves of Earth originally spoke Ainarin, or holy tongue (kin to Quenyan). After a great and terrible battle between the forces of light and darkness over ten thousand years ago from Earth standards the language continued to thrive until humans walked the earth. Then the language split into two, those that lived in the forests away from man's corruption continued to speak in Ainarin and those who chose to dwell among humans spoke what we now call Brunaic. After about two thousand years or so a great flood swept away most of the human and elven population save eight humans, ten elves and multiple duos of beasts. Among the ten elves are the seven Eldar and the three nobles. One of the survivors was the Prince Heir. They preserved both languages before the human race's dialects became confused one thousand years later. As the humans expanded to the ends of the earth so did the elves, though they still answered to the ruling family, the house of Iuara. Over time another dialect evolved and became known as Sainarin (Sindarin) for those elves who dwelled in the desert regions of the Earth. At this point the languages were divided into three regions of the earth, Ainarin in the Northwest, Brunaic in the Southwest, and Sainarin in the Middle East. About the time a Middle Eastern man named Abram, began to build a reputation, the elves crossed the Great Sea and found a new continent and a collection of human tribes. These human tribes embraced the Ainarin form openly and welcomed the race of elves as guides, helpers and fellow caretakers of the Earth around them. While many dialects of Ainarin stemmed from human alterations in an attempt to reconcile their own changing language with the elves. Upon the establishment of a new nation in the Middle East, Brunaic became widely spoken in both Northwestern and Southwestern regions. In the mainland on the Northwestern landmass, Brunaic gave birth to several human languages used by warrior tribes. On a Northwestern island, a new language was born due to the marriage of Ainarin and Brunaic. This language was called, Glirarin, because of its musical nature. At the beginning of a new age, another elvish tongue developed in the Far Eastern continent known as Luthaic. This version of the language was completely different from the other dialects. So much so that it became seen as another language entirely. In modern times, Brunaic is the common dialect spoken by most elves, but most elves also learn the universal human languages as fluently as possible to better communicate and assimilate with human culture._

The tale died around late afternoon with Glorfindel inquiring about the customs of her people and she, his. Those questions were answered briefly, though she had a feeling that both of them could have gone into minute detail about the evolution of certain elven customs and practices and the few ancient ones that survived over the years. The longest tale explained by her new elf companion centered on Rivendell and its history. Apparently it was established by Elrond during the Second Age of Middle Earth some four thousand years prior to her appearance in the world. It was seen as a place of peace, indefinitely protected by the river, magic, and Lord Elrond himself. Brianna listened to all of this with captivated interest while mentally shifting through the differences between her world and this one.

According to Glorfindel Rivendell was one of three major remaining known elven strongholds, but the only one that didn't constantly get attacked by their enemies. While patrols were necessary to keep orcs and other undesirables from coming too close, they weren't exactly needed. Rivendell was a house, not a town or castle, that rested on the edge of a narrow gorge which lead to the River Bruinen. There were living quarters, halls of healing, and a great library on the west side of the house and the kitchens, dining/banquet hall, a singing hall and an armory.

Glorfindel left out no detail and gladly continued his explanation until the group finally came to a stop in the dead of night for sleep.

"You should all sleep and I will take watch tonight. Your road has been hard and I fear that your strength will be needed before the end of this journey," he said.

Brianna translated this in her head to mean "Get some sleep now because I think we're about to be attacked."

She moved to help Frodo dismount from the impossibly large horse that was Asfaloth and helped him find a good place to sleep for that night. When he was situated she moved to find her own place for the night, but was stopped by Strider. The moment she caught the look on his face she knew, undoubtedly, that he was about to convince her to not go with Frodo should things become perilous.

"There isn't another way, Strider. Either you find some way to trust me now or Frodo will be lost and this ring of his along with it," she said sternly.

From the grim look on his face Brianna figured that he wasn't entirely thrilled about what she had to say. She rolled her eyes, shook her head, and knelt down onto the ground to move some moss over the dirt. Ever since her magic was revealed Brianna hadn't been shy about using it in small doses. She had done the same for Frodo a few minutes earlier, after all.

"As much as it surprises me, I do actually trust you," insisted the ranger while kneeling next to her and watching her work, "I do not; however, believe it is wise to let you go into the dragon's nest alone with a horse and an injured hobbit to protect you."

She glanced over at him with a raised eyebrow. No words escaped her. He was going to explain himself. Strider seemed to realize this because he moved to further elaborate on what he was trying to say.

"You do not belong in this world. The Nazgul most likely know this already and seek to take you and Frodo captive. You have magic they have only seen their master perform. The Dark Lord's attention has undoubtedly been drawn to you seeing as you are now an unforeseen threat," he said.

Brianna's mind worked over time. Not because she suddenly found herself agreeing with Strider (about this Sauron fellow suddenly taking an interest in her and not his need for her to remain with them), but because there was a strategic plan developing in her mind. If she could make Sauron nervous then his eye would leave Frodo and focus on her. After all, what better way to make an enemy nervous than be an unknown threat?

She smiled. It wasn't a nice smile, she knew. It was a crafty smile with slightly sadistic undertones.

"Well, wouldn't that be the point, Strider? Take Sauron's attention off of Frodo and put it squarely on me? How nervous do you think I can make him before he comes after me?" and she turned to meet his piercing blue-eyed gaze with a fire reflected in hers.

He looked shocked and asked, "Why?"

Really, she thought, it was a stupid question.

"I'm a huntress. It's what I do."

* * *

Strider didn't really sleep at all that night. The most he acquired, he figured, was about an hour. Before that he was found by Glorfindel brooding against a tree.

His blond elf friend approached him silently and watched him for some time. Strider could sense the disapproval rolling off the elf in waves and almost scowled at him. He didn't and continued to keep his face neutral and devoid of all thought as he battled with his emotions concerning the elf maiden sleeping near the hobbits.

"She is right, Aragorn," Glorfindel finally said, "The Dark Lord will see her as a threat and act accordingly. Her mystery will peak his interest and her power will frighten him. We cannot know why she is here, but we should take her as a valuable ally."

Strider, who was Aragorn, continued to frown. He didn't like the thought of using her as decoy while Frodo destroyed the ring. It was reckless, it was thoughtless and it placed more on her shoulders than she should have. His friend seemed to know where his thoughts were going and took the time to correct him on them.

"Miss Brianna is a huntress. I have heard tales of their kind from this realm known as Earth and I can promise you that the Riders will be repelled," he said.

He would say to his friend that he didn't doubt the elleth's ability to take a stand against the Nazgul, but he knew he's be lying. She fought them once, he had seen, but not for a prolonged period of time. In any case, why did she feel the need to aid them; strangers in a strange world?

"This is not her fight," Aragorn muttered.

Glorfindel laughed and replied, "She has made it her fight."

* * *

Glorfindel woke them up after about three hours of sleep much to Brianna's chagrin. It wasn't like she needed the extra sleep, no, but even she was beginning to feel the strain of the journey and the odd hours of rest she was getting. The moment the group reached Rivendell, she'd probably crash. It made things easier when the elf gave all of them a tonic the equivalent of caffeine and gave them some energy to move for several hours. Unfortunately, this too lasted briefly and they made camp earlier than what Glorfindel and Strider wished. As far as Brianna was concerned, she wasn't sure if they could actually make it.

It was midmorning when both Brianna and Glorfindel froze, cocked their heads to one side, and listened to the sound of quick, thundering, hoof falls following them. She was on Asfaloth's back when the other elf sprang forward.

"The Enemy is upon us! Fly!" he cried.

Brianna urged the great white horse forward while making sure that Frodo was secure. They only had gone a short way before a Rider manifested itself through the trees. Frodo shifted from under her to look behind.

"Brianna, ride forward!" Glorfindel ordered.

With a glance cast over her shoulder, a wave of her hand, and the resulting thud afterward causing some satisfaction she spurred the horse onward into a hard gallop. The Nazgul she knocked to the ground let out a piercing cry that made her ears ring, but she ignored it. All of her focus was on getting Frodo away from them as fast as was possible.

Two sets of hoof beats fell behind her while she caught sight of two other black horses leaping ahead of her. Brianna leaned over Frodo's right ear.

"Lean forward," she said as loudly as she dared.

He did as he was told and Brianna followed in suit. The position was uncomfortable for the both of them, but it served its purpose.

"Noro lim, Asfaloth, noro lim!" she yelled.

Asfaloth quickened his pace and Brianna knew that, if anything, he could understand what she knew as Sainarin. The Riders who tried to lay in ambush of them, there were two more than what she had originally noticed waiting for them, seemed destined to fail. The horse sped past them in a blur with a speed far greater than anything Brianna had ever been able to achieve.

Brianna hadn't needed to control the horse much when it plunged boldly into the river. She focused simply on keeping Frodo astride while making certain that the water didn't wash her away. They crossed successfully, but several splashes from the river behind told her that the enemy were upon them. She brought Asfaloth to a halt and turned him around. Her hand clenched around the hilt of her sword and the sing of its blade echoed in the air as she drew it. A shorter sliding of metal was also heard and she knew Frodo had drawn his own sword.

"Go back to your master, Nazgul, in the name of the Great Neleder and the Name Above All Names!" she barked.

They halted and called, "Give us the half-ling she-elf!"

"Go back to Mordor and follow me no more!" Frodo's shrill voice rang in the air.

"Give us the Ring, boy!"

"Fág! Téigh ar ais go dtí na tailte scáth! Lean muid nach bhfuil níos mó, in ainm an Cruthaitheoir!" (Leave, go back to the shadow lands! Follow us no more in the name of the Creator!) Brianna sounded more confident than she felt, but that tended to be the norm where she was concerned.

Asfaloth reared back as the Riders began to cross. Brianna did the one thing that she knew would at least give them a pause. With one arm around her hobbit friend she raised her sword and allowed flames to encircle the blade.

"Éist liom marcaigh an ceann olc! Tá mé Aracasse ven Aldura, fiach bean an oíche! Bringer an tsolais! Sí a chosnaíonn an lag! Sí a mharaíonn biotáille! In ainm an Tiarna, Dia, a labhair agus chruthaigh, ordaímse duit a fhágáil!" her voice was loud and clear and still commanding. (Hear me riders of the evil one! I am Aracasse ven Aldura, huntress of the night! Bringer of light! Protector of the weak! Slayer of spirits! In the name of the Lord, God, who spoke and created, I command you to leave!)

They screamed at them and Brianna and Frodo winced as the sound clanged unpleasantly in their ears. The leader started forward again, followed closely by the others. She clenched the hilt and noted that Frodo's sword arm dropped to his side. Angered and full of visible disgust, she readied Asfaloth. All elements surrounded her, they surged to her defenses, came to her call, filled her and waited to spring upon the riders in a rage.

She wondered, in hindsight, whether or not they felt the danger the world around them suddenly became. The Nazgul faltered for a moment, but that moment was apparently all the forces conspiring against them needed. At that moment, the river roared to life. The current surged and the waters rolled and turned into horses thundering down the river bed with flames for riders on their backs. Brianna raised an eyebrow. Whoever was doing this apparently had a creative flare for flamboyant attacks.

"Are you doing this?" Frodo asked in a faint voice.

The weakness of his whisper startled her and she looked down at him, wide-eyed, as the Nazgul and their steeds washed away. He looked pale and vacant, like he could barely see all that happened in front of him.

"No, but whoever is, is a friend," she replied.

Across the shore, she saw Strider, Glorfindel, Sam, Merry and Pippin calling to them from across the river. She was about to return their call, when Frodo's head lulled against her left shoulder and he went limp. Her breath hitched and she almost dropped her sword.

"Frodo!"

Footsteps crackled across the gravel behind her and she brought Asfaloth around with her sword raised and the fire along the blade flaring like a beacon in the late afternoon light. She did a double take when her teal eyes met aged blue-grey and emerald green. An old man with a speckled grey and white beard dressed in colors that matches his eyes came up to them beside a tall, dark haired elf dressed in pale white embroidered with silver.

"Le suilon, Lachel a da hiril," came the clear, though deep baritone voice of the elf. (I greet you, lady of the flame.)

"Do not worry, my dear, we are friends of Frodo's. I am Gandalf and this is Lord Elrond of Rivendell," greeted the old man in common tongue.

Brianna nodded mutely, unsure of whether or not she should trust them, but knowing that upon Frodo's loss of consciousness her friend had very little time left.

"Come, elleth, we must get Frodo to my house. He has little time left before he is beyond my reach. Quickly now!" urged the elf who called himself Elrond.

Her teeth grazed over her bottom lip and she deliberated for just a moment before deciding to trust them for that moment. Frodo was fading fast and he needed help immediately.

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